


First Christmas

by merc_cook



Category: Last Christmas (2019)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:47:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28580730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merc_cook/pseuds/merc_cook
Summary: An alternate ending to the 2019 film ‘Last Christmas’.
Relationships: Kate/Tom Webster (Last Christmas 2019)
Kudos: 2





	First Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Last Christmas I went to see Last Christmas. I was really enjoying the film up until the big twist reveal at the end. Aside from the fact that everyone I went to see it with had guessed it by about halfway through, for me, it didn’t actually fit or make sense with the rest of the film. I also felt it contradicted the overriding message of the film (to ‘Look Up’) given what in effect caused the twist. By the time I left the cinema I was already formulating how I would have ended the movie and consequently wrote this.
> 
> I’ve been sitting on this for a while (as you’ll no doubt be able to tell) but finally decided it was time to put it out there and present it for others to read. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> P.S. This is in no way a reflection of the screenwriting or talent of Emma Thompson – of whom I am a huge fan.

With so many amends made, there was still one final bridge to cross. Gathering her resolve she made her way to the street and, after hesitating, pressed the buzzer and waited for a response. She heard the door release go and hurried inside. The door to his flat was ajar.  
“Tom?” she called, pushing her way inside. The young man stood in front of her was not Tom. He had the same dark hair and camel-coloured coat but there was something about him that suggested that here was someone who meant business.  
“Tom,” As he turned round, she could see he was chatting on a phone and clutching a clipboard with his free hand. As he heard her approach he hurriedly finished his phone call.  
“Someone’s here. Ok. Bye.” He turned his attention to her. “Sorry.” He said, moving forward to shake her hand, “It’s been a mad day. I’m Andy. Sorry I’m so casual.” He indicated his clothes.  
“Oh, that’s ok.” Kate replied, unsure how else to react.  
“Are you…” Andy consulted his clipboard then looked up at her, uncertainly, “Mrs. Challis?”  
“No. No – sorry.”  
“No,” Andy said, “I didn’t think you were.”  
“No.” They both laughed nervously. “Are you waiting for Tom?” Kate asked.  
“Er, I don’t think so.” Andy said, “Unless he’s with you.”  
“No.” Kate replied, “No. I just came to find him”  
“Oh.” Andy said. “He’ll probably turn up.” He paused. “So shall we… get started then?”  
“Ooh.” Kate said, a little uneasy. “Started on what?”  
“Taking a little look.” Andy wandered round into the kitchen area and then turned back to face her “Right.” He said, “Well, I’ve looked and there it is.” He chuckled. “Small but compact – it’s neat. And that’s one of its selling points.”  
“It’s for sale?” Kate said, surprised.  
“Oh yeah – freehold this one – not for rental.”  
“That’s why he keeps it so tidy!”  
“Oh, yeah.” Andy replied. “There’s no room for clutter here. But there is plenty of storage space.” He opened one of the kitchen cupboards with a flourish. “Et voila! Oh.” He paused. “What have we got here?” Slightly bemused, he reached in and retrieved a mobile phone from the bottom of the cupboard. Kate laughed.  
“Oh my God” she said, reaching out for the phone which Andy handed to her. “Literally in the cupboard. No wonder it died.” She momentarily inspected the blank screen. “I’ll give it to him. Don’t worry.”  
“Give it to who?” Andy asked.  
“Tom.”  
“Who’s that then?”  
“Tom.” Kate replied. “Who lives here but is… selling the flat?”  
“No.” Andy replied. “No-one lives here. This has been empty for months.” An epiphany struck Kate.  
“Maybe he was squatting!”  
“Wha- was there a squatter here?” Kate winced. If Tom was squatting then he was unlikely to have wanted that fact revealed to the agents who were trying to sell it. “Oh bloody hell!” Andy exclaimed. “Excuse my language. It’s typical that is. It’s all that probate stuff that stops us from getting on with our jobs. That’s the probl-”  
“Probate?” Kate asked.  
“Yeah, you know,” Andy said, “when someone dies – it’s a pain in the fundament.”  
“Who’s died?”  
“Previous owner.”  
”Who?”  
“Uh,” the agent consulted his clipboard. “A Mr. Potter. Oldish bloke. Sad really – it was last Christmas by all accounts. Poor guy was all on his own. Neither of his 2 sons had visited in years. Really makes your blood boil that the reason it’s taken so long to get this place on the market is because those 2 sons are now fighting each other over their inheritance. They didn’t give a stuff about their old man when he was alive. But now he’s dead…”  
Kate had tuned out to the agent’s ramblings. Her mind was swimming. Potter? This wasn’t Tom’s flat. He’d never lived here. He’d lied to her. And, if he’d lied about that, what else had he lied about? She couldn’t depend on him. That’s what he’d said. Now she was beginning to see why. 

In a daze she wandered out of the flat and back down to the street. As if on autopilot she found herself wandering into the garden Tom (or whatever his name was) had brought her to. She made her way over to their bench and hesitated as something she had never realised before suddenly struck her. Slowly, she turned and lowered herself onto the bench; her mind still processing everything that had just happened. (This changed everything. He wasn’t Tom. He wasn’t who he said he was. How could she trust anything he had said? Nothing he had told her had any value. All their time together had been a lie.) Suddenly She felt the presence of someone moving towards her and looked up. It was him.  
“Hey.” He said. She didn’t reply. He frowned. “You ok?” She paused. Then,  
“Who are you?”  
“What do you mean?”  
“I know your name’s not Tom Webster.”  
“What makes you say that?” In answer, Kate shifted to one side to reveal the plaque that was embedded in the back of the bench that she’d finally noticed when she sat down. It read: Tom Webster 1986-2016.  
“So,” Kate repeated, sliding back into her previous position, “Who are you?” ‘Tom’ paused.  
“My real name is Will Taylor.” he said, finally. Kate nodded.  
“I see.” She said.  
“No.” Will said, sitting down on the bench beside her. “You don’t.”  
And slowly it all came out. How Will had been brought up in a bad part of town on a rundown council estate. How in his teens he had fallen in with the wrong crowd who had got him mixed up in all sorts of things he knew he shouldn’t have been involved with. How it had all gone wrong when one day they’d tricked him into going along with a burglary when, unbeknownst to him, one of them had been armed and, as a result, the householder had ended up being shot. Consequently, Will had ended up behind bars and had only just been released a few months ago.  
“So that’s why I haven’t seen you around before.” Kate said.  
“Exactly.” Will replied.  
“And your mysterious disappearances?”  
“Parole meetings.” Will explained, “Keeping me on the straight and narrow.” Kate nodded in understanding.  
“Are they succeeding?” Will looked almost hurt by this question.  
“Yes.” He replied. “Kate, I made a mistake. Not one I’m ever likely to or ever want to repeat. I never want to go back to that place again. Or that life. I’ve been given a second chance and I’m determined not to waste it. That’s one thing I’ve definitely learned from the whole experience - making the most of your second chances.” Kate shifted slightly; unsure if he was intending to make a direct comment of her own predicament/history. In an attempt to divert the conversation, she said,  
“What about the soup kitchen. Why had nobody heard of you when I asked?”  
“Well, I imagine they wouldn’t.” Will replied, “Not if you asked for Tom Webster.” Kate realised the logic in this. “Kate,” Will said, softly, taking hold of her hand, “This doesn’t change anything.”  
“What the-” Kate’s temper flared and she snatched her hand away, “This changes everything! You lied to me. You’ve lied to me from the beginning. How can I trust anything you say?!?” She paused. “After all the shit I’ve had to deal with in my life.” She said, angrily, “You thought I wanted more?”  
“But that’s exactly why I wanted to be in your life.”  
“What (do you mean)?” Kate said, thrown.  
“I saw you as I cycled through London every day. Saw you battling your demons or rather letting your demons battle you. I didn’t understand how someone who clearly had so much going for them,” Kate snorted at this. “seemed so intent on destruction.”  
“You think I had anything going for me?” Kate snorted, “The state I was in”  
“Absolutely.” Will replied, “I could see it. Even if you couldn’t.”  
“And what exactly,” Kate said, derisorily. “Have I got ‘going’ for me?”  
“You’ve got a job. A pretty weird and perhaps unconventional job but still a job/undoubtedly interesting. You’ve got your family including your clearly devoted mother. You’ve got your friends…”  
“Had.” Kate interrupted.  
“Got.” Will insisted. “You’ve only lost them if you want to.” He paused. “And then, as I got to know you, it all became clear. Everything that you told me about your illness, your recovery, your sense of unworthiness/detachment. It was almost like you didn’t feel you deserved your second chance. But you do, Kate, everybody does.”  
(“Including you.”  
“Hopefully.”) Kate turned to him with a look of indignation and disbelief.  
“So is that why you’re telling me this? In the hope I’ll give you a second chance.”  
“More because I should have told you ages ago.”  
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Will chuckled.  
“You think people react funny to a heart condition.” He said, “Think how they react when you say you’re an ex-con.” Kate paused. “Come on, Kate.” Will said, earnestly, “Haven’t you ever made a bad decision? Haven’t you ever wished you could turn the clock back? Undo the mess you’ve created.” Kate didn’t react to this but it was definitely ringing true.  
“You still could have said something.” She said, quietly.  
“I wanted to.” Will replied. “But I was afraid.”  
“Afraid?” Kate repeated. “Of what? Me?”  
“Sort of.” Will said, “Scared of your reaction. Scared of losing you. When you asked me my name, the lie just came so easily. I was so used to hiding who I was out of shame, out of regret. It practically never occurred to me to tell you my real name. And after that there was no way out. Not without admitting I’d lied. And, as you say, you’d had enough shit in your life.”  
“Huh!” Kate said, bitterly. “Well, you certainly succeeded there!”  
“I’m sorry.” Will said. Kate nodded. “No.” He moved round in front of her and took hold of both her hands. “I really am sorry.”  
Kate’s face with wet with tears. She couldn’t think of anything more to say. She had no more questions but she also wasn’t ready for a response. Will stood watching, seemingly waiting. Then when it became clear that neither condemnation nor absolution would be forthcoming, he nodded his head slowly. Eventually, he turned and made his way out of the garden with a last glance back at her.  
After a while, she too got up from the bench and headed out of the garden. Though she took care to head in a different direction to the one he had taken.

2 weeks later and preparations were finally ready for the big event. People were cheerfully flocking inside – it was unclear whether this was because of or despite the over-enthusiastic cryer outside. Among the usual regulars could be seen a few familiar faces – Santa was there with her “Boy”. And Andy with some of his friends. Eventually they filed into the hall and took their seats as Kate emerged onto the stage in her festive uniform to a riotous round of applause.  
“Hi.” She said, gazing round at her enthusiastic audience. Suddenly, her eyes alighted on a familiar figure seated in the middle of the third row. “Um.” What was he doing here? Of all the places for him to turn up again, now wasn’t the time. Now wasn’t the place. She turned her attention back to the show. “Right.” She said, “So I knew the lighting would be crap. So I brought my own.” With a flick of a switch, the fairy lights she had festooned herself with came alive to the delight of the gathered assembly. ”Yes alright.” She said, “Lots to get through.” As she began her thank yous to everyone who had contributed to the occasion, allowing her mother an opportunity to bask in the spotlight, her mind was fighting a fierce battle to stay away from the familiar figure she had spotted. ‘Don’t think about him/let him get to you.’ She told herself ‘Stay focused’. Ignoring the expected heckles she encountered from the delightful Dan, she gathered her spirits and began the last part of her non-speech. “I just, um,” she paused. Why did he have to be here? This would be so much easier without him watching her. She knew he’d think it was all about him and she wasn’t prepared/ready to admit that, “I just want to say this one thing.” Determinedly, she directed her gaze away from him and out into the hall. “We are so lucky” she began, “to be alive. We are so lucky to be able to help each other in little ways and in big ways. The reason we are lucky is because helping each other is in fact what makes us happy!” Amid the ensuing applause she heard the call,  
“Give us a song, Kate.”  
“Er, a song.” Kate repeated. She paused. Well, she’d got this far with him sitting there. “I think I’ve got one or two.” With her eyes focused straight ahead she began and, as she did, memories of her time with Will that she had tried so hard to block out of her mind came flooding back.  
“Last Christmas I gave you my heart,” She and Will on their bench in the garden, laughing at something Will had said, “but the very next day you gave it away,” Being at the ice rink, each keeping close to the other, “this year to save me from tears,” She and Will on the bed together, “I’ll give it to someone special.” Suddenly, the curtains behind her parted as her backing ensemble struck up the tune and she, they and eventually the entire hall joined in with the iconic song.

Sometime later, replete from her mother and Alba’s cooking, she found herself heading inexorably back towards the garden and winding her way along the snow-speckled path. This time the bench wasn’t empty. He was sitting there. She hesitated and then moved forward. It was unclear if he’d come for quiet contemplation or if he’d been waiting for her but when he heard her approach he glanced up and then pulled himself upright, gazing at her with a look of hope and expectation that she did nothing to reciprocate. Somewhat glumly, he shifted himself to one side to allow her space to sit down beside him which she did. There was a pause.  
“Kate,” he said, turning to her, “I-” she reached out a hand and placed a finger on his lips.  
“Mm-mm.” she said, shaking her head. He fell silent. Kate sat contemplating what she was about to do. She took a deep breath.  
“Last Christmas,” She sang, “I gave you my heart. But the very next day,” she glanced at him. He was staring at her with rapt attention, “you gave it away. This year,” she turned towards him. He mirrored her. “To save me from tears.” She reached out a hand and placed it on one of his. “I’ll give it to someone special.” He seized her hand in his as pure joy flooded his face. “But,” she added, speaking once again, “If you fuck things up again, you know full well that I’ll kick your ass.” He let out a burst of laughter.  
“Yes, ma’am.” He said. They moved closer and embraced. Their lips touched gently and sensuously, feeling just as magical as before. As they pulled apart, Will appeared slightly puzzled. “What changed your mind?” he asked.  
“You were right.” Kate answered, “Second chances are important.” Will smiled again and wrapped his arm around her as they settled next to each other; the snow whirling playfully in the air as both of them looked up at the sky above them.


End file.
